


When I'm a Grown-Up

by Jay_Wells



Series: The Odd Life of Alexander Hamilton [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Absent Parents, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Teen Pregnancy, Teenage Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Wells/pseuds/Jay_Wells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When I grow up, I will be brave enough to fight the creatures under the bed each night that you have to fight to be a grown up." ["When I Grow Up", Matilda]</p><p>John digs yet another hole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm a Grown-Up

Since he’s living with John, Alex registered for the summer term to catch up on time lost while serving in Lebanon. He was out when Martha called.

John picked up the phone, feeling the dread rising. How was he to tell her, again, that he couldn’t bring her over, just yet? He had to finish his studies, get a job, a house. Then there was Alex. God, he hoped they never met. He put the phone against his ear. The last phone call had ended with them yelling at each other. 

“John?” She didn’t sound angry, just sad, and that was so much worse. She sighed into the phone. “Your father gave me your number, so I know this is the right number. I need to talk to you.”

“Martha, I’m sorry -- ”

“John.” Her tone was enough to shut him up. “I’m not stupid. I know there’s another woman.”

Funny she said woman, when they were kids themselves. She was a woman, though, John realised after a moment’s speculation. Having Frances meant having to grow up. 

“Don’t lie about it either.” she said. “I want to you to know I don’t like it, and it’s not fair to me. I want you to know that.” She sounded like she was on the verge of crying. “There’s nothing I can do about it, though. You live across an ocean.”

“I’m sorry.” He was. He knew he used her to prove something. He wasn’t willing to apologise for the sex, because they’d both made that choice and they had both known what could happen, but he would apologise for his motives. 

“I didn’t call to talk about that. I called because Frances wants to talk to you.”

“Martha … ” He would have to talk to his daughter eventually, but he didn’t know if he face her just yet. He felt pathetic.

Martha heard the hesitance. “John, please talk to her. She’s almost three, and she’s never even seen you. She just wants to talk to you, and I don’t know how to tell her if you won’t. Please. She’s just a little girl, she won’t take that long.”

“Okay, pass her the phone.”

There was a pause while the phone was passed, and then a small voice chirped, “Daddy! This is Fanny speaking.”

“Hey, Fanny. It’s nice to meet you. How are you doing?”

“Good! I’m going to daycare to learn the alphabet next month so Mummy doesn’t have to take night classes. Then I get to go to preschool and learn how to read and write.”

Fanny told him about her future plans to be a lawyer “just like Daddy” and her day and how Auntie Marcy was planning her birthday party. It was going to be princess themed. 

His heart broke a little bit, because this little girl deserved so much better than him. 

She stayed on the phone for half an hour. He heard the front door opening and cut her off hurriedly. “I’ve got to go soon. Could you hand the phone back to Mummy?”

“Mhm!” she said. “You’ll talk to me again sometime, right?”

“Of course.”

When Martha retrieved the phone, she said, coldly, “Does she know?”

Alex was in the hall now, hanging his coat up. John tapped nervously on the receiver. “What?”

“Your girlfriend. Does she know that you’re married?”

John’s heart rate doubled. 

Martha took his hesitation as confirmation. “For God’s sake, you didn’t even have the decency to tell  _ her _ .”

“That’s my roommate, Alex, Martha.” he said. It was a half-truth. “Look, I’ve gotta go to work. I’ll -- I’ll call sometime, okay? Bye.”

He hung up quickly.

Alex came around the corner and gave him a puzzled look. “Who was that?”

“Just my sister, Martha. She lives in England.” And was currently helping his wife raise his daughter while she attended boarding school.

“Oh, well, you didn’t need to hang up.” Alex adjusted his messenger bag. “I have to finish an essay, and then I’ve got to get ready for work.”

It was actually painful that everyone in his life was better at being an adult than him, especially when it felt like he didn’t even need to put in that much effort. Alex leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. John felt like a shitty person. He should, as Martha had said, have the decency to tell Alex that he was dating a married man.

“Hey, Alex, before you go?”

Alex sat down. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got something to ask you.” He decided to tack on a preemptive apology. “It’s sort of personal, so you don’t have to answer.”

“Shoot.” he said.

“After your mom died, who took care of you?” He waited for the reprimand:  _ don’t ask questions that aren’t your business. _

Alex ran his tongue over his teeth and swallowed. “My cousin, Peter, did.”

“Why not your dad? Did something happen to him?” John pressed.

He squirmed. “My Da left when I was ten. Haven’t seen him since.” 

Alex turned nineteen in January. Nine years since he’d last seen his father. “Do you write him, or call, or something?”

“I used to write him once a month. Never got a reply.” Alex shrugged. “When I was seventeen, I wrote him another letter. I thought that maybe he just wasn’t getting my letters, so I posted it to the local paper. That’s why I’m here.”

“After all that, you probably hate him.” Just like Fanny was about to.

Alex thought on it, then shook his head. “No, I don’t. My father was a good man, when he was himself. I loved him -- I do love him.”

“Why?” John was baffled. Alex should hate his father -- John definitely hated the man for abandoning Alex to his fate. “He sounds like an asshole.”

“He is. It’s a little complicated.” he said. He was noticeably uncomfortable now. “I love him, for what little he did do, but I don’t respect him like I respect my mother. I mean, your father doesn’t sound like a dream either, but you love him, and he loves you. Love isn’t always the way we think it should be. People love poorly. That’s why there’s forgiveness. You wouldn’t need to forgive people’s shortcomings and failures if love was always perfect. My father took to drinking when life got tough, my mother prayed, then went to work. I love my father for telling me stories and making promises, when he kept them, and for loving me. He almost never hit us. He did burn my brother once, out of carelessness.”

“What would you say to him, if you could see him again?” What would you tell me?

“I’d ask him where the fuck he’s been all my life, then I’d hug him and ask him to stay.” He tapped his finger against his thigh nervously. “I wouldn’t beg. I’m past that. Why all the questions? Is something goin’ on between you and your father?”

John shrugged. “Thanks. You can work on your essay now, if you want.”

Alex grinned and squeezed his hand. “Love you.”

He went upstairs.

This was something Alex wouldn’t take well. John would tell him later, when he’d warmed him up to it.


End file.
